


When we met

by CharminglyyEvil



Category: The 100, kabby - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Kabby, Modern AU, a police officer, a strip club, a waitress - Freeform, abby griffin as a waitress?, lord knows where i got this idea from, smut later on probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 02:20:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6176476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharminglyyEvil/pseuds/CharminglyyEvil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'She wasn't dressed to entice men and persuade them to buy another drink. And she wasn't as young as the other girls, or swayed her hips seductively and pushed her breasts out like the other girls did either. And yet Marcus Kane couldn't keep her eyes off of her'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When we met

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so i was working on friday at my waitressing job, and ironically thought of a kabby fic where Marcus meets Abby, who is a waitress. After not getting any kabby scenes last week i think we all need more fics. This didn't turn out how I expected it to be, but i do hope/believe that it will get better! It's hard setting the scene in the first chapter and this one has a lot of dialogue, which i'm not always great at writing. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy it anyway. Now I better go and study for a test i have tomorrow and stop letting this ship distract/ruin my life. eeeeek.

It was in a loud, sweaty strip club filled with streams of flashing neon lights and the pungent stench of brandy and tobacco was where he saw her. Past the pudgy, middle-aged men drinking brandy and dressed in fine business suits, through the string of waitresses that strutted in corsets and ribbons and lace, and over the catwalk stage where one young girl twirled around a pole like wire twisting over metal.

 

The woman that had captivated his attention all night was bending over one of the tables and collecting glasses onto her tray. Unlike the other waitresses, she wasn’t dressed in a mini skirt or high heels. She wore a white, button up blouse that dipped just between her breasts, a black pencil skirt that reached halfway down her knees and comfortable wedges. Her hair wasn’t let out in a cascade of curls either, but tied up in a loose ponytail to her side. It was almost classy. Sophisticated. And so very out of place.

 

She wasn’t dressed to entice men and persuade them to buy another drink. And she wasn’t as young as the other girls, or swayed her hips seductively and pushed her breasts out like the other girls did either.

 

And yet Marcus Kane couldn’t keep her eyes off of her.

“Hey Marcus, are you alright?”

 

Marcus startled, looking up at his friend, David Sinclair. “Yeah, why?”

 

“Well, we’ve been at a strip club for over an hour and you haven’t even looked at the stage all night. What’s on your mind?”

 

Marcus dragged his eyes away from his friend and back to the older waitress. She had picked up the tray of glasses and went to turn around, her cinnamon coloured eyes meeting his. She blinked at him questioningly and Marcus quickly averted his gaze.

 

“Marcus?” Miller questioned him this time. Miller took a swing of his drink and set the glass back down on their table with a small bang. “Marcus, I know this night’s always tough for you. But you need to move on…come on, how about I buy you a dance?”

 

But Marcus didn’t want a lap dance. Marcus’s eyes returned to the older brunet who was walking back to the bar, the tray of glasses in her hand.

 

He wanted a drink.

 

Marcus sprung up form his seat. “I’m going to get a drink. Did anyone else want one?”

 

They shook their heads at him with a puzzled stare and Marcus was off, heading over to the bar.

 

It was the sixth of March, or the day that once signified his anniversary with Callie Cartwig. But his girlfriend had died in a car accident two years ago, and so this date as it did every year since her death, brought painful memories. Marcus knew that his friends meant well by dragging him here, but a strip club wouldn’t do it for him.

 

Marcus wasn’t too sure what was pulling him towards this mysterious waitress. Perhaps it was because she was older than the other girls, and because she looked so out of place with the clothes she wore and the way she carried herself, with confidence and dignity.

 

And yes, to quote a cliché, Marcus was wondering why the hell a woman like her was working in a place like this.

 

Marcus took a seat on a stool, searching for the brown-eyed waitress. The bar was empty. It seemed like everyone was enjoying their drinks with the full view of the stage.

 

There were no workers behind the bar either. _Where was she?_

He spun around on his stool and spotted her nearby. She was talking to a beefy looking guy who looked like trouble, pursing her lips at him and casting him a stern look. Marcus’s eyes narrowed onto the man. The bloke was deliriously drunk. Marcus noticed the way the man’s eyes darkened, slowly trailing up and down the waitress as if he was mentally undressing her with his mind.

 

Marcus clenched his fingers, ready to jump up if anything happened.

 

The waitress cast the customer another fiery glare before she spun around. The beefy man immediately reached for her waist and pulled her back. The palm of her hand flew back around as quickly as the thrash of a whip, slamming into his cheek. The man fell back at the force of her slap, and she carefully picked up his glass of beer and poured it on his face.

 

Marcus was stunned at first, taken back by her rather audacious retaliation. But he couldn’t help but repress a breathy chuckle as he watched the beer trickle down the furious customer’s face, and the woman turn on her heel and stride back into the bar as if she dealt with this behaviour every night.

 

Marcus spun back around on his seat in time to see the woman return to the bar, still fuming as she slammed the glass onto the tray and brushed a few loose curls away from her eyes.

 

“Hey, are you alright?”

 

The woman startled, lifting her eyes up to the stranger. “Yes, I’m fine”.

 

The woman went back to tidying the glasses, hurriedly clinking them together and glaring at them as if she hoped to break them with her fiery glare.

 

“It was just that I saw the trouble he was giving you over there,” Marcus continued anyway, wincing when he heard her slam another glass onto the bar with a small clang. “I was going to call security-“

 

“ _I said I was fine,”_ the woman snapped her head up, shooting him a cold stare. “Thank you for your concern, but I can take care of myself”.

 

“I didn’t say you couldn’t-“  


“Did you want a drink or not?”

 

Marcus almost felt himself melting under her burning glare, but nodded anyway as he asked for a “rum and coke”. He reached into his jacket pocket as she worked on his drink quietly, his fingers searching for his wallet. He pulled out his keys, his sketchpad and finally, his wallet. He noticed her eyes briefly flicker to his sketchpad on the bar with a raised eyebrow, but she didn’t say anything.

 

She placed his drink down and closed her eyes, letting out a small sigh. “I’m sorry,” she quietly. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It’s…it’s been a long night”.

 

“It’s fine, I understand,” Marcus hesitated as he paid her. “Do customers always treat you that way?”

 

“Not always, but they can turn into arseholes when they’re drunk,” she paused, letting out a small sigh that came out as a breathy chuckle. “Besides, I work at a strip club, so what should I expect?”

 

The woman took a steady breath and tore her eyes away from the man, turning to the register to bring him back his change. Something shattered behind her glassy eyes, cutting its way towards his chest.

 

“Then why stay here then? You don’t seem like you belong here”.

 

She raised her eyes, studying him with a new curiosity. “And where do you think I belong?”

 

Marcus paused, thinking over her question. “Working in a firm perhaps? Managing a large corporate office? Working in a laboratory and helping to invent the cure for cancer?” he said with a playful smile. “Anywhere but here”.

 

She repressed a small breathy chuckle, resuming her work with the glasses. “Well if any large corporate officers call for a job opening, please let me know”. She hesitated, her lips parting and than closing, as if she was debating weather or not she should say anymore. Finally she said, “I am a doctor though. I work part times at the hospital until they can give me more shifts”.

 

Marcus’s eyes rounded with surprise. “A doctor?”

 

She nodded. “My friend owns this club, and this was just an extra job I picked up along the side when he was looking for more workers”.

 

Marcus just shook his head incredulously. “But why work here in the first place then?”

 

The woman pinched her lips together and thought carefully. Finally she said softly, “Even doctors can get caught in a crisis. And someone needs to pay the debts”.

 

Marcus was stunned. She was a doctor, intelligent and dedicated to saving lives. And she was gorgeous too. From her cascade of caramel coloured curls, her voluptuous curves and her slender legs, she was stunning in every way. And yet she was working here, at a cheap and sleazy strip club.

 

“Did you want another drink?”

 

Marcus startled, tearing his eyes away from her and to his now empty glass. He prayed that he hadn’t been staring fixatedly at her for too long. He hadn’t even remembered consuming the beverage. He nodded and she went to refill his glass.

 

“So,” she said when she placed his glass down, a small smile playing on her lips. “Tell me about you”.

 

“Me?”

 

She nodded, leaning on the counter. “It’s clear that you don’t come here often”.

 

“Why do you say that?”

 

“Well, you paid twenty dollars to come to a strip club, and while your friends enjoyed the show, you were watching me clean up tables”.

 

Marcus felt the heat rise in his neck. _Had she known that he had been staring at her all night?_

But the woman was still smiling at him softly as she continued. “And instead of watching a string of naked women spin around on a pole, you’ve been sitting here, talking to the oldest bartender in the room”.

 

Marcus just shrugged as he downed down the rest of his drink. “Well, maybe I’d rather talk to the bartender instead”.

 

She dipped her head down and shook her head, but Marcus saw a fracture of a smile grace her lips. Her eyes drifted over his drink and to the sketchpad by his side, staring peculiarly at the art pad.

 

“So, you’re an artist then?”

 

“Well, that’s just my side job,” he said with a small smile, pocketing the sketchpad. “I work down at the local sheriff department”.

 

“You’re a cop?”

 

“Yep. So if that guy ever gives you anymore trouble, just let me know”.

 

Her lips graced into a smile that lit her eyes. “Noted. But I think I can take care of him”.

 

A black, sturdy looking man suddenly stumbled into the bar. He breathed out a sigh of relief when he spotted the older waitress. “Oh good, you’re here. Emily just twisted her ankle again”.

 

The bartender turned to what Marcus imagined to be her boss, frowning. “What? She wasn’t supposed to be performing tonight. I told her to rest this week”.

 

Her boss just shrugged. “She wanted to perform tonight and wouldn’t let any of us stop her”.

 

The doctor sighed and nodded. “I’ll go and check on her”. She cast Marcus one last smile and went to leave before Marcus called out,

 

“Hey, I never caught your name”.

 

The bartender whirled around, flashing him a small smile. “That’s because I didn’t give it out”.

 

 

…

 

Marcus had left the strip club over an hour ago, and yet the mysterious brunet was still on his mind.

 

He was standing outside the bus stop just opposite the club, dripping wet from the pouring rain. He checked his phone to see when his next bus would arrive, even though three buses going to his apartment had passed him already. His friends had left an hour ago for another bar, insisting that Marcus was being ridiculous for hanging around and waiting for her. But Marcus was still kicking himself for not getting her number, and a part of him couldn’t help but hope that she would emerge from the club soon to give him another chance.

 

But as time ticked on, Marcus began to doubt his chances. If she wasn’t going to give him her name, than she certainly wasn’t going to give him her number.

 

Just when he was about to give up and call for a cab, he saw her step out from the club doors, and his heart leapt with joy. She was dressed in a long coat as she walked down the pathway, squinting past the rain flooding the streets.

 

_She was coming his way._

Marcus swallowed, his heart accelerating.

 

She was running now, stumbling across the road in her wedges. She was staring at him with wide eyes too and waving her hands in the air. He was sure that she was trying to shout something at him, but it was difficult to make out her cries through the pouring rain.

 

“Stop the bus!”

 

Marcus looked up just as a bus rolled past him, splashing him with water.

 

She crossed the road, watching the bus drive down the streets. She sighed, cursing silently.

 

Marcus winced sympathetically, feeling terrible. “How long until your next one?”

 

She gestured to the desolate streets. “That was it”.

 

The bartender cursed under her breath again as she retreated under the bus shelter next to Marcus. She took her phone out from her pursue and dialed a number, bringing it to her ear.

 

“Hey Raven, yes I know it’s late…I know, I just- I need to call in a favour”.

 

Marcus bowed his head down and stepped away, not wanting to eavesdrop on her conversation.

 

It wasn’t long before she had slipped her phone back into her bag, resting her head back against the bus-shelter wall.

 

“No luck?” Marcus asked, but her closed eyes and exhausted sigh gave him his answer.

 

“My friend’s out of town tonight, some weekend trip with her boyfriend,” she repressed an incredulous chuckle, shaking her head. “Tonight of all nights too”.

 

“Do you have a way home?”

 

“I’ll walk home. It’s fine,” she said, noticing his concerned gaze. “I don’t live far”.

 

She frowned when she noticed him dialing a number and bringing his phone to his ear.

 

“Hello, yes. Could I grab a cab at,” Marcus paused, searching for the street sign. “Clearwater street? Ten minutes? Yes, that’s fine. Thank you”.

 

“What was that?” she asked when he hung up.

 

“I just called for a taxi. You can’t walk home in this rain”.

 

She just shrugged, gesturing to her sides. “I’m drenched already”.

 

“You could get robbed,” he pointed out again. “Killed. Hit by a car. We’re not exactly in a safe neighborhood”.

 

She lifted an eyebrow. “And I suppose you want to pay for my taxi fee too?”

 

Marcus just shrugged, his lips twitching into a hint of a smile. “Well it shouldn’t cost me much. As you said, you don’t live far”.

 

She shook her head. “You didn’t have to do that. I’m capable of finding my own way home”.

 

“I know,” he replied, staring at her closely. “But I have a feeling that you’re not used to accepting help from others”.

 

She met his eyes before dragging her gaze back to the rain. “Maybe you’re not too wrong there,” she said softly. She hesitated, before meeting his eyes once more. “Thank you”.

 

They stood there silently, watching the rain pelt down in bullets and splattering across the streets.

 

“So, where are your friends then?” she asked him suddenly, turning to face him.

 

Marcus lifted his shoulder up in a shrug. “By now? Most likely at home”.

 

The woman studied him closely, curiosity dragging her eyes back to his. “Can I ask why you came down to the club tonight? I mean, you’re not the usual customer I serve in this dump on a Saturday night”.

“My friends dragged me out tonight. It was my anniversary”.

 

She raised her eyebrows. “Your anniversary?”.

 

He swallowed. “My partner passed away two years ago and tonight…tonight is usually hard. My friends just wanted to distract me”.

 

Her eyes softened, concern creasing her features. “Oh, I’m sorry”.

 

But Marcus shook his head, casting her a small smile. “Don’t be. Tonight was actually one of the better nights”.

 

A breathy chuckle bubbled in her chest. “You can’t be serious. We’re standing drenched from the rain and-“ she stopped as the bus zoomed by, splashing water on them. The driver was clearly oblivious to them from the hazy storm. “And I’m pretty sure that was the last bus”.

 

She let out another breathy laugh and Marcus soon found himself chuckling too. “You’re right, tonight was terrible,” he said, shaking his head at their equal misfortune. “But at least I have good company”.

 

She bit back a small smile, her eyes lingering on his. “I can’t argue with you there”.

 

The cab pulled by them, splattering them with another gush of water. The two of them clambered into the cab and she told the driver her address whilst Marcus settled back into his seat. The two sat silently as the car took off. Marcus used this time to collect his thoughts together, mustering up the courage to ask her out. But ten minutes later the cab was stopping outside of her apartment building, and she was already gathering her purse together and casting him a small smile.

 

“Well, this is my place,” she said, tilting her head outside. She hesitated, her lips parting and closing, as if she was debating whether or not she should say something else. In the end she just said, “Thank you Marcus”.

 

Surprise crossed his features. “How do you know my name?”

 

She bit back a playful smile, shrugging. “I saw your name scribbled on your sketch pad earlier on”.

 

Then she was opening the door and slipping out of the car. And Marcus’s heart dropped with the realisation that he hadn’t retrieved her number. _He hadn’t even gotten her name._ He quickly rolled down the window, feeling the rain spray into his eyes as he called out,

 

“Hey, I never even got your name!”

 

She whirled around and grinned back in the rain. “Abby. It’s Abby!”

 

A smile spread across his features as he watched her run back into her apartment, her name slipping softly from his lips. “Abby”.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you thought! Any ideas for future chapters? I have a few but I'm open to suggestions! Oh and let's pray that kabby kisses this week. Seriously. I'm worried because apparently Paige isn't mentioned in the press release? but i can't wait another 3 weeks after the mid season break for them to kiss, i just can't do it!!!


End file.
